Drunk With Blood really is a horrible book ~ and what makes it such a horror is that it enumerates the sheer number of people whom God either killed Himself or else approved of their deaths ~ straight from the Bible!

From the back cover: Who has killed more, Satan or God? (Biblical numbers only, no estimates.)

Satan 10

God 2,476,633

That's slightly less than 2.5 MILLION people killed by God in the bible, folks.

In the introduction, author Steve Wells, explains how he came up with the numbers ~ he only uses the actual #s from the bible. For instance, in the story of Job ~ God gave Satan permission to kill all of Job's children & servants. The bible says he had 10 children. Since he was a wealthy man, Job probably had more servants than children ~ but "Drunk With Blood" doesn't count the servants' deaths. Which means that these numbers that Steve Wells came up with are actually under-representative of the # of people killed by God.

Steve explains that he also didn't include FUTURE killings ~ those promised by God in Revelation ~ since they haven't happened yet.

The promised End Times killings are ~ Wow ~ a horrendous # of dead people ~ to be killed by Jesus, himself! Rev 14 foretells "one like the Son of Man" swinging his sickle & "reaping" enough dead that their blood fills a huge winepress. Wells calculates that the amount of blood needed to fill this winepress would require the death of 24 TRILLION people ~ killed by JESUS!

'Cuz ~ as we've been told ~ the first time, Jesus came as a Lamb ~ next time, He'll come as a Lion ~ wreaking vengeance upon the enemies of God.

Quoting Steve Wells, "there are many other verses that say similar (batshit crazy) things in the Bible, & they're not all in Revelation ..."

So you get the idea ~ "Drunk With Blood: God's Killings in the Bible" quotes verse after verse where God killed the creatures He made in His own image.

When I was a Christian, I generally skimmed over those barbaric killings ~ I figured God must've had a reason ~ even if I didn't get it. Or I would say, "Well, that was the old covenant" Jesus came to be the ultimate sacrifice ~ so Christianity is different.

Quoting @AlmightGod: To most Christians, the Bible is like a software license. Nobody actually reads it. They just scroll to the bottom and click "I agree."

"Drunk With Blood" includes God's killings in the New Testament too: Ananias & Sapphira, Herod Aggripa, and of course, Jesus. "God killed his son in order to stop himself from torturing people forever after they die..."

So here's the thing ~ for all the talk about God being LOVE & the value of human life ~ the bible God relishes the death of His enemies ... and He also glories in the deaths of his chosen people (martyrs get a crown) and even His own Son!

As a former Quiverfull believer, I saw this devaluing of human life ~ esp. for women ~ for mothers who risk their lives producing "arrows for God's army" (See Kathryn Joyce, Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement) Mary Pride ~ a Quiverfull leader, says that women who die in childbirth are to be honored as martyrs! Quiverfull moms who die in childbirth are just so much collateral damage in the war for the advancement of God's kingdom.

After reading "Drunk With Blood" I am not at all surprised when I think of the callous attitude re: maternal deaths among the "pro-life" and "pro-family" ~ biblical family values camp.

To most Christians, the Bible is like a software license. Nobody actually reads it. They just scroll to the bottom and click "I agree." I used to identify with Job ~ "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him" was my life verse ~ ugh! I feel betrayed by this "Creator!" I was willing to die for Him ~ yet, the bible God thinks nothing of wholesale slaughter of men, women, children. What the hell was I thinking? Such a monster God is unworthy of my devotion & self-sacrifice.

And my oldest daughter ~ she very well could have become another victim of this Killer God ~ as a "Quivering daughter" (see Hillary McFarland, Quivering Daughters), following His ways drove her to attempt suicide.

When I was in high school, I was "on fire" for "the Lord." I prayed every day, went to church three times a week, and went to all the Christian concerts and volunteer efforts. I tried to do what I thought "God" wanted me to. It worked for me then. Looking back, I feel like I was devout because I hadn't really experienced much of the world (which, admittedly, I still haven't). I only knew what I had grown up around, which was fundamentalist, conservative Christianity. I *knew* that homosexuality was a sin, hell, even *thinking* a "bad thought" was a sin. As a result, I felt guilty all the time. I fell into a deep depression because I felt like I wasn't "fulfilling God's given role" on this earth. Maybe God had already used me for his purpose, and that was it, He was done with me. I began cutting, scratching, and burning myself, which made me feel even guiltier, which in turn made me even more depressed. I had an abusive boyfriend at the time. I felt I wasn't a good women because if I were "Godly" enough, he wouldn't want to berate, hit, and cheat on me. I wanted to die, I just couldn't do it because I was a coward. I would never be able to take my own life. So I stopped trying to be a good Christian. I stopped caring.

Christianity was all I knew. It's the only set of rules I learned to live by. I had to do something, so i concentrated on work and just being happy with my boyfriend.

On top of my depression, I had anxiety attacks. I thought that since I didn't care about my faith anymore, I wasn't a "True Christian" and that I was going to hell. I would have anxiety attacks often, I couldn't breathe. I felt unreal, fake. The thought of burning in hell forever really, really scared me.

Then I came across vegetarianism. I don't know why, but I loved the idea of going veg, so I did. Soon after I realized the deplorable ways animals for consumption are treated and went completely vegan (abstaining from all animal products). I had a new mission. Save as many animals as I could.

Being vegan raised many questions I had about my Christian faith. Why would God not only allow, but encourage, eating animals? They have families, the cry out when in pain, they feel happiness and sadness. There's no way I could feel comfortable with a God that condones the murder of sentient beings. Then I started to realize the way the God of the Bible viewed women. Sure, some had "standout roles", but only in *their* place. If you're telling me those parts of the Bible aren't literal, or are outdated, then I can't be a Christian that picks and chooses my "favorite" parts of the Bible. It's all true, or none of it's true. Then more I really looked at my religion and saw it how I see "other" religions, like Islam or paganism, I could no longer believe. I could no longer believe that scientists are lying or "making mistakes" on things like carbon dating and how old the earth is. Scientists are experts in their field because they test and retest, and if they get a different answer, they change their opinions to fit the world around them, not the other way around. The world is old, there are many things that the human race has been wrong about, we need to continue forward and fix these things.

Instead of worshiping a God and trying to be good in order to not go to hell and be rewarded in heaven, I do good because all sentient being deserve it. I can have a good time for my own sake, to discover the world with what little time I have left. We are all entitled to live life the way we want, and I refuse to believe certain will be punished for all eternity because they don't believe the same way I do.

However emotional that all sounded, the real deal-breaker was that as an adult, it made no sense to me. Just as I know Santa cannot be real, I believe God is not real, either in my former religion or all other existing religions now or in the future.

I still have anxiety sometimes about there being no afterlife. I fear death greatly, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot believe that my future is predestined by God. I do good because I honestly care. That is all I have to give. That has to be enough.

Sorry this was so long, and if it is jumbled or I'm rambling. This was my first time, and I suppose a rough draft, of explaining to someone why I'm an atheist.

The 32-year-old is charged with three counts of statuary rape involving a 14-year-old girl, according to arrest warrants. All three incidents occurred in April and May, according to police.

The warrants listed a Pembroke address, but Todd gave officers a Columbia, S.C. address. He could not be reached for comment.

Monroe declined to say how Todd knew the minor, noting it was not through church. It is the policy of The Laurinburg Exchange not to print the names of victims listed in reports on sexual assaults.

Calls to the church were not returned by press time. He is still listed as the pastor on the church's website, www.springbranchmbc.org. According to the site, Todd currently serves as President of the Union for the Pee Dee Missionary Baptist Educational Association and is a member of the General Board at Large for the General Baptist State Convention of NC, Inc.

He was formerly the pastor of Saint John Missionary Baptist Church of the Freeman Community of Riegelwood, N.C., the Middle District Baptist Association Director of Youth Affairs, a member of the Evangelism Ministry, a lecturer of the Congress of Christian Education and past Chairman of Youth Evangelism.

Todd is the president and founder of St. John Community Development Corporation. He is married with two children.

And you think Christians have a gimmick? Donate to your page for what? Believers (sincere, true, honest believers) offer life and life more abundantly through Jesus who is the Truth, the Way and the Life. What do you offer other than cynicism and emptiness?

You need to reconsider life in God. I've seen God do incredible things in my family, all to HIS GLORY. My mother, aged, dying and in a coma, revived for 15 minutes to tell us of the glory of Heaven, to worship, and then went back into the coma and died. My mother had been "raised from the dead" as a young woman who bled out after surgery.

My father was healed of Wegner's disease, necrotic tissue in his lungs regenerating (impossible) and confirmed by Mayo. I was healed of arthritis. I was healed of hypertension. I was healed of anxiety disorder. I take no meds for any of the above. Can I see through a glass eye like Ronald Coyne you write about? No, I don't have a glass eye! But have I seen the face of God through the eyes of my spirit? Yes, and God is good!

After leaving home I stayed away from church for several years. I had no pleasant memories of being raised by fundamentalists, and didn’t want to waste any more of my life inside church walls. After some time I married a lapsed Catholic who expressed less interest in religion than I did, and I thought I’d grow old with her. Within a few months she began attending mass at the local parish chapel and laying a head trip on me that I was in need of god.

It also annoyed her that I was writing poetry and short stories which were being accepted for publication by alternative and new age focused magazines. I was also smoking a great amount of weed and drinking beer with my friends. We were together for three years, and then we split immediately after our son was born.

I followed my ex back to our home town so I could stay in my son’s life. I had him with me on most weekends. One day when my son was two he asked me to take him to church. I had attended my ex-father-in-law’s funeral service at a Catholic church, and I knew I didn’t want to take him to that type of church. I hated the formality and ritual. I found a Protestant church nearby and we began attending occasional services. Usually I dropped him off in Sunday school, walked a few blocks to the local park to smoke a joint, and then walked back in time to take him home.

About this time I stopped writing.

When my son was nine or ten his mother sent him off for the summer to visit relatives in another state. I was lonely without him and hooked up with a lady I had been infatuated with when I was in high school. She was pentecostal and laid down two rules for me if I wanted to date her: stop getting high and to attend her church. It was easy for me to stop smoking weed, but attending church was awful. Not only did they adhere to fundamentalist teachings like the churches I grew up in, but they also did a lot of moaning, wailing and strange utterances that they referred to as “speaking in tongues.” It was nuts, but this lady was a babe so I let my penis do my thinking for me. I even learned to tolerate both of her spoiled brat daughters.

About a year later we were married, and then when my son was twelve his new little sister was born. I noticed tension between my wife and my son, but thought it was something we could work out. His mother thought differently, and she kept me from seeing him for about 18 months. I tried to resolve the issues and get back into my son’s life, but my new wife had other ideas and sabotaged all my efforts. Even into high school his mother insisted I only see him outside of my home. One pastor even advised me to entirely remove my son from my life. According to him my new life should be with my new wife.

Before our daughter was born we moved to a new church, but after several months we left it and started attending the local Calvary Chapel. For me it was a relief to not be attending a church where I was constantly hearing cackling and moaning during the services. CC calls itself charismatic where they believe in “tongues,” but they use it with more restraint. I felt more comfortable among the faithful, and I started studying my bible.

Though I had been raised attending fundamentalist churches I had never read the bible more than was necessary to complete my Sunday school lessons. Even at the IFCA church when I was a teenager I only read what the pastor had us read for the services. Now as an adult it still bugged me to read “scripture.” I enjoyed reading fiction, poetry, world history and science articles, but the bible was dry. I knew how to type so I decided I would type the bible instead of read it. This was in the nineties before I bought my first computer so I started typing scripture on my electric word processor. (I also started to write poetry again.) It took me about a year and a half to type out the complete NIV and New American Standard versions of the bible, and I was about to start in on the New King James when my wife began to behave in a really crazy manner. (Even crazier than typing out the text of the bible.) She had shown some signs of mental illness earlier in our marriage, but now she went completely over the edge of reality.

One evening we were at church when she told me she had to go to the restroom. She was gone for about twenty minutes and I wondered what was keeping her. Fortunately it was dark in the sanctuary because when I looked back toward the last pew I saw her standing totally naked. Without making a fuss I went to her and asked her what she was doing. She mumbled something about it being god’s will, and then I walked her back to the restroom, picking up her clothing that she had removed along the way. I’m not certain if anyone saw her. I kept it low key, and I only spoke to the assistant pastor about it.

The diagnosis was Schizoaffective Disorder. Life began to resemble the intensity of hell. Church was no help. I was told to have faith, to trust in god, to pray. I was even told that I was “blessed.” Then the situation became even worse when my wife’s oldest daughter died shortly after turning twenty-one.

We split up when our daughter was seven, and were divorced a year later. My daughter is sixteen now, and I’ve been raising her without the help of her mother. The truth is her mother can’t even help herself. She has alienated her entire family, including her surviving daughter, and she has gone on extended psychotic episodes where she calls up everyone we know in the middle of the night to tell them that I am a mass murderer and rapist, that I am in league with the devil, and that I am a practicing homosexual on my way to becoming the Antichrist. None of these accusations are true. She still attends different churches and seems to be highly influenced by prophetic studies of the book of Revelation. Occasionally I’ll receive a call from someone I used to know at church who asks me why I have mistreated my wife so badly. Often they hang up before I can reply.

But these aren’t the reasons why I left CC and no longer am searching for another church. What disturbed me about the people at the churches I was attending were the small things they would say. One guy told me that living in a dictatorship would be fine with him as long as the dictator believed in Christ. Another person said he was grateful for the churches distribution of voter guides because he didn’t like to have to think for himself about the issues. Then I finally pulled my daughter out of her Sunday school class after her teacher said that his purpose was to make the students believe that the creation myth was truer than the Theory of Evolution.

There is always a change that my daughter has inherited an inclination for her mother's mental illness, but I don't want it to be fueled by the insanity of biblical teaching. That would be too crazy.

Having grown up listening to Dobson and reading LaHaye and various other Christian psychologists (including that old Bill Gothard!)... I wonder what is actual fact, and what is religious mishmosh put out there to preserve the "way it should be."

For instance, I am a firstborn. Female. I was told it wasn't appropriate for me to be upset that my parents elected to have my younger brother be the executor of their will... because, see, god had determined that the firstborn female didn't count... god gave all the blessings and birthrights to the males (Adam, Abraham, Moses--let's not discuss poor Esau--it was his own fault!--and of course Joseph with his coat was a special exception...oh, and the whole Ishmael/Isaac thing can be explained if you just follow the story properly!). Firstborn females are supposed to be dedicated to god, and they count...sort of. Like, well, really they don't count, but they sort of do, but it's, well it's just hard to explain...(like everything else)

And when my family adopted, parents were very careful not to displace the god-ordained order of children--they chose a boy (brother was lonely) older than the youngest, and younger than me and #2 brother...because they knew how much it would mess up our tender little psyches to be thrust out of proper sequence. Oddly, adopted brother was a firstborn in his FOO...not too concerned about him, I guess.

Now for the situation setup: DH and I have adopted a delightful child, an "only" child (2y/o, "Taz"). We are going to adopt a younger sibling (an infant "Baby"-and technically #4 in FOO). We have also decided to expand our home to include a foster 5 y/o (oldest of 3 sibs, "Clara").

Frequently Clara and Taz butt heads, and I figure we have the age factor, the territorial imperative factor, the "habitual role of the family" (only and bossy oldest) factor as well as some psychological issues. BUT I think gradually we can work it out...after all, DH and I are BOTH first-borns and we successfully integrated our two only children into a pretty good "firstborn" family.

Now the question: Dad keeps giving me "those looks" and telling me that the Clara is usurping Taz' role (since Taz was there first), and that's why the head-butting, and that it won't ever change because god set up this special order that we are "messing around" with. I guess the implication is that we should stop fostering this one and find another (more suitable) to care for.

What do y'all think? Is there really something to the whole birth order psychology? or is this simply another way to keep certain people "in line"? I'd love to hear if there is actually any studies or research into this realm.

Prayer is one of the most destructive lies of Christianity. Firstly, it promises much and delivers nothing. Matt 21 v 22 says ‘And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive’. Obviously this is a lie, the hours, the days spent in prayer, and not one supernatural intervention by god. How many times did I, did you, cry out to god, in desperation, in anguish, in belief. How many times was there an answer?

Secondly, and perhaps most damaging of all, it traps a person into non action, into a pattern of passive waiting, of believing they are not able to control their lives, of waiting on someone/thing else to solve problems. To the extent that some people are unable to make any decisions without first ‘waiting’ on god. How many people are trapped in destructive marriages waiting for god to ‘heal’ their partners, to change their personalities, to ‘make’ things better. How many wait for years, praying for god to get them the ‘right’ job, and not taking control and going and doing whatever it takes? How many times have we read about children dying for lack of medical intervention - while parents pray and believe god instead?

We are the ones in control of our lives, the only ones that can change things.
So why have I recently found myself wishing (hoping. praying?) that ‘someone, something out there’ would wave a magic wand over my life? 99% of me knows better, but there is still that lonely 1% that ‘hopes’ instead of ‘does’.

Hope (prayer?) is not going to change anything, of course. Only I can change things under my control, and the things that aren’t under my control, well, I have no answer for those. I am not in control of who lives or dies, I am not in control of the decisions my children make, I am not in control of other peoples feelings or actions. What I am in control of is me and what I can do and what I can change. There is no one out there in heaven or hell ready to fight my battles, they are mine alone to control.

Well here I am, 41 years old, writing on ExChritian.net -- not because I want to tell you how wrong they are, but because I agree. If someone would have told me that I was to do this 20 years ago, I would have laughed (and prayed for you).

I grew up in a large loving Italian-Catholic home. My parents had great faith. My father worked three jobs at times and we struggled every step of the way. The whole time we would all wonder why we had to struggle all the time. We would help people, but would never get anything in return. My father was a mechanic and would always do favors for people who claimed that they couldn’t afford to pay him. (They could have. They were Christians). He, like always, just did it. He was a good man. I guess we assumed that if our time wouldn’t come here on earth, then it would in heaven. I remember my father scraping together a few dollars on Sunday mornings to put in the collection basket.

Well, my father died. Lots of people came to the funeral claiming that he was a great man. But he died just the way he was born -- with nothing. According to god’s word, this man should have been blessed. This always bothered me inside but we were taught to just have faith. The people who gain riches in this world by using others will have their day. They’ll see!

Like all my brothers, I grew up in my father’s footsteps. I had met a beautiful girl when I was 15 years old. She came from a rough family and I wanted nothing more than to save her from it -- to take care of her. We dated through all of school. She then started going to bible studies. I followed. In 1989 I became born again. We (like all the others in the world) thought that we were led to the best preacher in the world! He was old school and he knew the word inside and out. I ate, drank, lived, studied, and pretty much even slept with the bible. I was baptized in the holy spirit and spoke in tongues. Wow! What an experience! Little did I know at the time that this experience would be the only thing I had that was real (I thought) to hang on to. Later in life when I would question Christianity, I would use the tongues moment to prove to myself that god was real. So we married and had the most spiritual wedding that anyone was ever at. Seriously. Our pastor really was good at what he did. The whole church cried during our vowels and prayer. Even my tough Italian catholic uncles. This only fed my fire more. I knew without any doubt, that we were meant to be together and Jesus was the third leg in our marriage. I was 100% positive that nothing would ever come between my wife and I. I had a pack with god that I will serve him and he will keep my wife safe.

Life went on. We pretty much lived at the church. Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, Wednesday nights. I left all my good buddies (you know, the ones who were there for me years later when I fell and all the christians ran). I was an elder. I taught Sunday school. I was the pastor’s favorite! He would even come to my house and study the word with me. Just us! It was deep. I wasn’t going to be no lukewarm Christian! No fence sitting for me. I will get to the place where I could walk and talk with Jesus! Like the apostles or Moses!

Now, I can imagine some Christian reading this and thinking that I must have not really been saved. Or something was wrong with me. That is how you have to think in order to believe. When god doesn’t move? It HAS to be your fault!

Years went by. About seven or eight years after marriage, questions started to come. I was in a very stressful business. It was successful of course. It had to be or I could never have given god the glory for it and got myself into this mess. I started asking god, “why can’t I have any peace”? By now I should be bearing all the fruits of the spirit and I should be coasting with joy. Instead I was stressed. Never happy because I could never please god and find his will in my life. I started paying attention to the real person my wife was and started wondering if god really made my wife for me. Why is she so wrong for me? I started struggling. But did I quit? No! I beat myself up more! God is perfect, therefore I am to blame. What am I doing wrong here?? I sold my stressful business and got into another. God told me to do this and this would be my answer to joy. Well in three years, that business was worse and I lost about 50 grand. If I used common sense, I would have realized that it was a dying and saturated business. But that didn’t matter if god told me to do it. So then the answer god gave me was to go manage my best friend's business. He became very successful overnight and needed me. He was a Christian too. This all made sense! God prepared me all this time through my businesses to merge with him. Thank god! Well it was great. I made great money too! Until his sister (who really ran the show and who was a little upset that I made more money than her) had her friend come work under me. All my employees warned me that she was after my job. Did I listen? Nope. God had me here. God is the boss. Well, after a bunch of lies from these Christian women and a few years later, I was on the streets. Fired. Let me say that while I was working at this job, I got a divorce. My brother committed suicide. (Long story there, but in short, he trusted his marriage to god too!) My father died of brain cancer. My Grandmother died. And, I found this new wonderful woman who god sent to me. She was everything that my first wife wasn’t. God really blessed me this time! We bought a house and were engaged to be married. (ended up not working. Won’t bore you with that spirit led drama)

At this point in time, my new fiancée and I bought the house god told me to buy. Both of our other houses were still up for sale. We bought the house we had because it was exactly what we wanted and the owners agreed on the price we offered. My fiancée was very unsettled about buying a house while our other two were still on the market. Was I? No way! Either god is in control or he isn’t. I asked her….Do you believe that god brought us together and wants us in this house? “Yes” she said. I said “then we must take a leap of faith.” For whatever crazy reason at the time, I still truly believed that god wouldn’t let me down. I had to prove that god would take care of us. Well with 3 mortgages and a huge child support payment, this is when my “best friend” and his sister fired me. I stood firm on the lord and was humiliated again. I really really started to question god at this point. Everyone was so gracious to pray for me though! So instead of coming to my senses, I was sure that I was in a wilderness experience. I would remember years ago laying face down on Sunday mornings at the alter crying and begging for god to make me and break me. So I thought that I was special in god’s eyes. He is taking me to a level where not many people would ever be. I am in an awful wilderness experience but when I get out of this fiery furnace, I am going to shine! Pure gold I will be!!

So as I jumped from business to business losing whatever money and credit that I had left, I would bear this storm. I would study and read up on “wilderness experiences”. I learned that god doesn’t just abandon you, but that this is the time that he speaks with you! At this point I think that I really knew in my heart that I wasn’t ever going to hear that voice that I so longed to hear. But I kept listening for it. And I kept blaming myself when I didn’t hear it.

You think that you are doing the right things in life, but actually you are in slow motion by waiting on god thinking that he will provide. I was never lazy but now I see how I would have done things differently. The funny thing is…..If things did “happen” to work out and I was in the money, I would still believe and I would give god all the credit. And Christians who are reading this and who don’t really need to rely on god will say something like I didn’t use the common sense that god gave me. Or that god gives us freewill and we need to make the right choices. Sorry guys. The fact is, I truly relied on god and lost. Every time that I took a step of faith, I was humiliated.

So, after saving so many people in life (spiritually and financially) I would wonder when it would be my turn. I then stumbled on Exchristian.Net. I read about people who felt like I did. I felt so much better! But I just couldn’t stop believing in Jesus Christ. I just couldn’t do it. Plus….I’d burn in hell !!!

After about eight years of this wilderness experience, I got to the point where I would holler at god, asking "Why???? Why me? I don’t want to be broken any more! I don’t want led any more!" I would wish and pray that I would become dumb so I wouldn’t think the way I do and would know no better. I would wish that I could be more like other people and just be stupid and not realize anything. Not expect anything. Just accept anything. Just have a surface relationship with god. I couldn’t handle this deep stuff any more.

Day by day I was slowly coming to my senses. One of my last hopeless episodes was one where I said to god that I need to hear something or feel something right now. Anything! Your warmth. A hug. Your love. ANYTHING!!! I sat outside in the dark at 2 a.m. in the morning. I prayed in tongues for an hour. Tried my best to meditate and hear god. "Your word says to just knock! I have been knocking, pounding, ringing the door bell, and screaming." Finally, finally, finally, I said, "Enough of this. He ain’t there." Then all of a sudden it was like a born-again experience happened all over again. I can see! Things finally make sense. I feel as though the world fell from me. I am not afraid! I don’t worry about displeasing this guy in the sky who I thought loved me so much. He was supposed to be the ultimate father. Well I wouldn’t treat my kids a fraction as bad as he treated me. What a total waste of life! I have nothing now. If only I could have the 100k back that I gave that small church all those years. Now I see that I was only paying my preacher's salary. What pure bondage I was in. I am so happy that I am free! Half of my life is gone now. I am broke. But I will start fresh and this time I will really be free. I can make my own decisions to benefit me and my kids. I am not going to lie, cheat, and steal, but I don’t care if my decisions will please god. I’ll focus on myself for a change. Make myself happy instead of Mr. Make-Believe.

It is so amazing what a strong hold that it can have on you. And only when you finally let go of the fear and use your common sense, will you TRULY be free. It is unreal how much sense life makes now. I don’t want to sound arrogant, but I believe that if I was an unintelligent person I would have been able to except that life and just continue. But when you can think on your own, you can see that the Christian life doesn’t work. I was rooted so deep that I fought it for a long time. Feels so good to finally be free.

Now my biggest problem is dealing with my little girls, ages 11 and 8. They both love god. I don’t want to hurt them and really confuse them now, but I also won’t stand to see them bang their head off the wall trying to please a god who will never be pleased. Maybe for some, Christianity will make you a better person. But I can see how it also can ruin lives. I will continue to work on it. Thank you Exchristian.net for all the help -- before and in the future.

I recently found myself thrust into the unnatural habitat of the xtian jungle. And unfortunately I was privy to a cult ritual commonly carried out by so many of the xtian tribes. First, allow me to give a little back story. I will try to keep it tasteful. And I sincerely apologize for any confusion I may cause by starting somewhere in the middle, but at the beginning of the end.

I sat in my chair hugging my knees to my chest and trying to watch one of my favorite evening shows. From the corner of my eye I could see him lying on the couch with one hand down his lounging pants. This had become the routine. Every evening he would lie on the couch and scratch all things below his waistline, while pretending not to read the steady stream of texts on his cell phone. Every now and again, he would glance in my direction to see if I was looking and then he would run his fingers under his nose and continue texting. Occasionally he would make a random comment about the current scene on the television to try and cover up the fact that he was not really watching the show. So many times I fought down the urge to shove his cell phone up his … well; you can guess where I wanted it to be. Yes, at this point, I really wanted to see him text from there.

I sighed. But I had been sighing a lot these days. This was not the man I had married. Who was this person? Who was this strange devolved creature that inhabited the same space as me, and had inhabited it for the last fifteen years?

Only one month ago I had come downstairs at midnight to find him having sex with his female ‘friend’ on our couch; in my home, on a couch that I chosen. They were so engrossed in their activity that they did not see me. His ‘friend’ was a psychologist with unresolved daddy issues of sexual abuse. Ironic isn’t it? Of course they had spent all day drinking. And the marijuana she had apparently brought with her played a part in dulling their perception. But for this, at least, I was oddly grateful as I stood there frozen on the staircase. I was dumbfounded. My hands and feet went numb. My chest seemed to shrink three sizes and threatened to crush my lungs. I could hear each rapid heartbeat crashing violently against my eardrums as I turned and went back upstairs. I pushed the bedroom door closed; I pushed our bedroom door closed.

The next morning, I poured myself a cup of coffee. I’ve no idea how long I stood there staring through the kitchen window at the neighbor’s bird feeder. These neighbors are very sweet people. They told me they had chosen to put the birdfeeder in that location just for me, because I so enjoyed watching the birds. Around ten, he came downstairs and went straight to the couch. I watch his face as he spotted the patches of dried goo on the cobalt blue throw. His eyes widened and he snatched up the soft, fuzzy, warm throw that I always used on the couch and took it upstairs. I swallowed hard, but the lump in my throat refused to budge. So, I set about sterilizing the kitchen; the kitchen they had been in together just before I discovered that it had truly fallen apart. I closed my eyes and tried to take what comfort I could from the warmth of my morning coffee. He came back downstairs and turned on the television. Later, I went upstairs to do the laundry. My soft, fuzzy, warm, (now goo-covered) cobalt blue throw that he had given to me for Christmas was sitting in the laundry basket staring sadly back at me. Right next to it laid a pair of shorts and briefs also spattered with dried goo.

I desperately needed to talk to someone, but family was out of the question. Most of my family members were Xtians and I only heard from them when a gift-receiving occasion rolled around. And besides, it was much too humiliating a thing to tell a family member anyway. So, a week later, when my friend and neighbor asked me how I was doing, I broke down from the internalized stress and blurted out that I would be getting a divorce. After her surprised look faded she expressed her sympathy. Then she insisted on praying for me, right then and right there. After her regurgitated prayer, her face took on a very serious expression and she took my hand. Adultery or not, she told me, in the eyes of the almighty lord you and your husband are bound together forever. So, as I stood there in pain, she told me that in the loving eyes of the lord I needed to do whatever I could to MAKE my marriage work.

WHAT???

I suddenly needed to make her see reason. I told her that it had stopped being my marriage two years ago when I had witnessed my husband, in a drunken haze, slobbering over my twenty-five year old mentally ill niece. I had tried to blame that atrocity on the fact that he had recently suffered a traumatic experience. He had, after all, just lost his younger brother to an accident on the job. His brother had been a dear, sweet thirty-two-year-old man about to become a father for the fourth time. But fate had other plans and he had been crushed to death in a machine just after lunch one day. So I took a psychological step back and tried to be understanding. I allowed my husband time to confess and explain this one slip-up. But he never did. I was stupid. I was scared. And that is when the ghosts of warped Xtian teachings past began to haunt me. Feelings of betrayal morphed into feelings of self loathing. I questioned my worth. Was I unlovable? My youth pastors would have been so proud of me.

At this point, I saw a ‘light’ go on in my friend’s eyes. Now, instead of listening to my story and being supportive, my good xtian ‘friend’ pounced upon this primo opportunity to witness to me. I was aghast at her pitiful attitude toward my husband’s repeated betrayal. She said Satan had brought about this devastating change in my life. And with god all things were possible, she preached. Yes, with god you can fix this and bring back the intimacy, she said.

WHAT????

If sex with me, six to nine times a week, had not been enough for him then what on earth was I supposed to do? If watching his football games every fall, picking up his dozens of empty beer cans every day and ignoring his constant flirting with other woman for fifteen years was not enough? Then what the hell did this woman think I was supposed to do? I had cooked, cleaned, cared for him when he got sick, tended to the yard, planted and harvested the herbs and vegetables and laughed at all his jokes. Where was I supposed to go from there?

And what if the proverbial shoe were on the other foot? Would she let her husband bang random women on her couch and then cater to his every whim? This poor misguided xtian woman then told me that god always had a plan. Sound familiar? She said that man was not at fault here, but it was the work of demonic possession. This simple-minded xtian woman was determined that my husband was not acting of his own accord. But he was, in fact, possessed by an evil spirit that caused him to lust after the loose and immoral women of the world. And she also informed me that it was not the fault of these women either, because they were also possessed.

WHAT??????

I wanted to snatch off her goofy god-goggles and let her see how absurd she was acting. Needless to say, we no longer speak to one another. Mainly because she began sending me videotaped ‘proof’ of demons being cast out. Of course this proof came from CBN and the 700 Club. Go figure, right? Holy monkey, some people should really be locked up for their own safety. Each time she sent me another e-mail I wanted to bolt over to her house, shake her and scream for her to wake up!

Well, it has been two months now since the divorce papers were filed, but it is not yet final. On the bright side, I did not ‘go god’. But rather I have spent my time wisely preparing to be single. Tomorrow I will be yet another year older and as I face this prospect, with no job, no skills to speak of, no children, and no one to turn to I will do my level best to ignore how terrified I truly am. It is unhealthy to keep stressful thing bottled up, so this rant is my release. Writing is therapeutic and it feels so good to get these poisonous thoughts out of my aching head and onto paper where they can be recycled into something useful. It was necessary to free myself of this burden, because although I did not think I could cry anymore I was wrong. After three double martinis last night I wandered out into the front yard around ten thirty to trim the hedges; seemed a good idea, eh? Somewhere deep down I desperately wanted Freddy Kruger to appear. At least that would have been a much more pleasant nightmare to deal with. Well soon I found myself on my hands and knees in the wet grass behind the shrubs, sobbing as quietly as I could.

What? Somebody please pinch me?

This person is not me. I do not even recognize the reflection I see in the mirror these days. I see a sad face with dull eyes and dark circles beneath them and I cannot believe it is me. Never have I been more alone. However, others have survived things far more horrid than this. So I will take the bits of wisdom found in the various catalogs I receive each month and I will ‘suck it up’, ‘rub some dirt on it’, ‘pull on my big girl panties’ and ‘slap on a little lipstick’. Then I will cash in my ticket for ‘The Little Engine that Could’, because THAT is how a godless person deals with the screwed up realities of life.

So on August 4th I had what I thought would be a routine visit with my cardiologist about my mitro-valve prolapse. Pardon my spelling, ain't no doctor.

My heart has always been good and strong and even with this condition I was never in any danger of serious heart problems. Unless the heart chamber grew, then it would be surgery.

On August 2nd just before my doctor appointment, I started having problems with my heart pounding, tightness in my chest and dizziness. I've had heart palpitations before, just not like this or this bad. So it scared me! I never had a heart attack, but sure felt I was having some serious problems. We decided to go to the ER to be safe. After a few hours I was released with no serious problems. I was never in any danger. NEVER GOOGLE SYMPTOMS, JUST CALL THE DAMN HOSPITAL!

So on the 4th I see my doctor and he was concerned. He started talking about the possibility of surgery. But to be sure he wanted to do some tests and see what my heart condition was before we went that route. But at the time he felt surgery may be the case.

Since I was 18 I have been an avid bicyclist. I ride everywhere when I can and walk a lot as well, but my eating habits have always been bad. I drank more soda in a day than most people do in a couple weeks. I would average 60 to 80 ounces A DAY! And I was having heart palpitations, fathom that!

At my doctor appointment, hearing the S word (surgery) something just snapped. My soda and bad eating habits were no longer a choice. So that night the wife and I ran to Safeway and picked up juice and fruits and healthy stuff to snack on and for lunches.

Wait a minute Neal, what has this got to do with Ex-Christians? You'll see.

So after all this starts I decided to do what any good Internet user would do. I posted to Facebook. I have a lot of Christian friends so you can probably guess what the majority of the comments were. Take a guess. Hint it's those four words we all want to hear, “I'll pray for you”. I got a few who would keep me in their thoughts too. It always makes me smile when someone says that.

I got one person, my neighbor Michelle, who offered to help us in anyway should it come to me having open heart surgery. But the one's wanting to pray for me kind of annoyed me. Now many of these friends were sincere and were probably trying to lift my spirits, but it still annoyed me. By the way, thanks Michelle for offering to help. That was sweet. Glad you're my neighbor.

Why? Because the “I'll pray for you” line has always been an easy cop-out when it comes to helping someone. None of those who offered to pray, offered money, food, assistance around the house or anything along that line. Plus on top of that they will think it will actually do some good.

Well after 12 days of fretting the results are back. I am as healthy as an ox, do NOT need surgery or medications and as long as I stay healthy, eat healthy and exercise I should be able to go a long time like this.

In fact, once I cut off the soda and junk food, all of the problems I was experiencing just up and went away. Wow, it's magic! NO IT'S FLAT OUT HEALTHY LIVING! But we all know what my friends are going to say now that I have announced the final results. It's gonna be “Praise God, He answers prayer” and they will totally ignore the health habit changes I made.

Now here is the kicker. If I drink more than 40 ounces of soda or eat something real sugary, guess what happens? The symptoms come back. SURPRISE! NOT!!!!

So many Christians probably assumed I feared death. Not really, I just didn't want to die now. My life is finally going places so why stop now? Not to mention all the people I am close to in my life. I really don't want to have to say goodbye to them.

Even my doctor, you know the heart EXPERT, agrees that my healthy eating and exercise make all the difference. But we all know the Christians will ignore that and go straight to giving God the credit even though he didn't do squat. God ain't the one on the bike or changing his eating habits. I AM.

But then the lesson here is just that some people have a dire need to believe in something like miracles. Sure, what happened could be seen as a miracle, but I am the one who created it. By choice, not by blind faith or prayer. Christians sometimes (a lot) claim that your prayers go unanswered because you don't have enough faith regardless of how many pray for you. They try to make you the blame when their prayers for you don't get answered.

Well I never prayed for myself in this matter. Not once did I ask God for help. Instead I just snapped to it and made the changes I felt would make a difference. And well what do you know? Shazam (great show by the way) I feel better! And I had no faith God would do anything. But you know that Christians have to have an excuse for this too because “God is just showing you his love to bring you back to him”. Yeah sure, you go with that. As for me and my house, we will not serve the false Lord. Been there, done that, no thanks.

And what really gets me is the number of church goers who offered to at least pray, yet the one who doesn't go to church offered to jump right in and help us out. Do I doubt my Christian friends sincerity? Not really, this is just the mindset you are taught. It becomes so easy when all you have to do is pray and just believe. It also becomes sad when I see so many who could do so much with their lives just wasting away and spinning their wheels being the church robot.

When you make a sacrifice it should be for your good, not your harm. I made a sacrifice in some of the goodies I enjoy eating and it was for my good. I changed and started on a healthier diet and am as happy and healthy as I could be.

But we know Christians will just accuse me of being blind or having a false hope or feeling. They will still claim THEIR prayers were answered.

My latest offering to the Letters page of a local weekly newspaper here in Maine was published today. It is reprinted below for your amusement. Many on this site have asked what sort of responses I get to my letters. Usually, there is no response, and when there is a response it is almost always by a fundamentalist nut case who makes such a fool of himself that I feel no need to respond to him.

In the most recent such case, the man mentioned that he had told me over the phone that a witch’s coven was located in a neighboring town and I could have checked it out myself but that I had just hung up on him. What he said was true. I have yet to waste my time checking out his story. He also said that if sodomy was a capitol crime, as it should be, then there would be no AIDS. He and his superstitious madness is one of the reasons I keep writing these things.

Why I Write

Recently a friend mentioned that he had discussed with others some of my letters to this newspaper concerning religion, and that they thought I was out of line and should just let people believe what they want (and he agreed). First, let me say that I have not shared his name with anyone else and I don’t intend to. He has a right to privacy.

Well, if I have stepped on some toes, that’s unfortunate, but I simply cannot accept that religion deserves a free pass. It plays way too big a role in our society. If religious opinions were kept in the churches, then I would keep my opinions to myself. But that’s clearly not how the world works.

To those who think I should just shut up about religion, please allow me to explain why I must respectfully decline.

When people bring their religious beliefs into the public square, into the public schools, and into the voting booth, it is both unreasonable and unfair to expect those with other beliefs to just shut up.

Should I just shut up about Maine’s gay marriage law being overturned by religious forces because the Bible says homosexuality is an abomination? That same Bible also says eating shellfish is an abomination, but everyone ignores that. Am I wrong to ask that people use some consistent logic in the voting booth? It’s my state, too.

Should I just shut up about the religious right pushing their “values” candidates – claiming they are the right people to lead our country because they believe in the supernatural? Given the widespread media coverage of clergy child abuse it should be obvious to everyone by now that belief in the supernatural does not guarantee sound moral character. And people do need to know this. Nor are all people of sound moral character believers in the supernatural. And people need to know that, too.

Should I just shut up when I see huge swaths of public policy in this country - not just on same-sex marriage, but on abortion and stem-cell research and sex education in schools - being based, not on evidence of which policies do and don't work and what is and isn't true about the world, but on religious texts written thousands of years ago?

Why are some views alright for public consumption, but not mine? I can respect a person’s right to air her views whether I happen to agree with them or not. Why should my views be treated any differently?

Isn’t it obvious that our world is far from perfect and nothing changes if no one speaks up? Now, if some of you still think my opinions don’t deserve a hearing, just because you disagree with them, or because you think people should be able to promote religious agendas without having to defend them, then I am forced to conclude that you just aren’t interested in playing fair.

CLEVELAND - It wasn't the television debut for which most Evangelists hope.

43-year old Rodney Stewart appeared on a big screen in a Cuyahoga County courtroom for his first appearance before a judge on three charges of importuning, possession of criminal tools and disseminating materials harmful to a juvenile.

Sheriff's deputies from Franklin County, working undercover as part of the Internet Crimes Against Children Task Force say the married father of four took the bait when they went on line posing as a 15 year old girl and her 36-year old mother.

"He's having sexual, very sexual conversations sometimes with the mother, what he believes to be the mother, sometimes the daughter, sometimes with both of them," said Cuyahoga County Prosecutor Bill Mason, who also chairs the statewide task force. Mason says Stewart used a webcam to send the 15 year old girl a picture of his private parts.

Stewart was arrested after Broadview Heights police and a Franklin County deputy searched the home he shares with his family .

"I've been doing this for ten years myself and this one really startles me more then any just because he's a minister, he's a preacher," said Mason.

He says Stewart archived every chat he had with the mother daughter team, evidence that will be used against him in court.

"We're very sorry to learn of the things we've learned of," said Pastor Don Barth from the Broadview Heights Baptist Church, who told Fox8's Lorrie Taylor that Stewart ran a ministry out of the church. "And going to do our best to help restore the best we can."

Barth said Stewart traveled the country as an evangelist and representative of his church. "It's difficult with anybody as pastor, you love everyone," he said when asked his reaction to Stewart's arrest.

Barth says he will stand by Stewart as he would any troubled soul. Assistant County Prosecutor Frankie Goldberg wasn't as charitable. She asked the judge to impose a $25,000 bond and order Stewart not to leave the county.

The judge granted the prosecution's request, ending Stewart's first appearance on the big screen.

Like many others, I was raised in deeply Christian home and my particular flavor was that of the speaking in tongues and getting lost in the spirit. While the emotional state of those encounters were undeniably great(sorry for the lack of a better description), there was nothing to the religion. I've since moved beyond that hyperactive view of Christianity and taken the position of doing what's right because it's the right thing to do. Granted, things are often what you put into them, but either way, at 27 now and married for 4 years, I find myself searching and Christianity is showing itself to be more and more empty.

It should be noted that I remember the first crack in my faith was around 13 or 14 when we had a evangelist come in and say that there were other gospels floating around at the time the Gospels were written. At that early age, it floored me. No one told me there were other stories and at that age I accepted whatever was told of me. The Bible is the only Truth and only existence of said stories? Sure, Ok. When those doubts were voiced, it was said that those were the stories that God wanted us to know...

I've also been burned too many times by folks in the church. Some how people politely excuse political intrigue in the church as something that's part of the process. My dad, who was a youth pastor for 4 years at a church, found out he wasn't the youth pastor of that 350-400 member church by looking in the church bulletin and saw his farewell dinner on the itinerary that night. How many times is it okay to screw up someone's life and faith for you're own protection/advancement before it becomes not OK?

I'm also a student of history. As I've researched the political climate of the various stages in the story and the formation of the Christian faith. I've found there are literally a ton of important climate/culturally relevant information that is blatantly ignored in churches and would cause even the Cannon to interpreted differently.

The final crack over years and years of cracks -- the one that shattered my faith -- was the attempted suicide of my wife. She has suffered from major depressive disorder during the entirety of our relationship. Finally being diagnosed about two years into dating her. To those who have lived with a depressed spouse, then maybe you can identify, but if not, it is like watching someone drown slowly 5 feet away from you and you can't do a thing to help. I've tried. She's tried. We're still going to therapy and she's now up to anti-psychotic medication. Her heart is as huge as the sky. Always giving, always wanting the best for others and for me. She still calls herself a Christian and has some type of hope for the Afterlife. I can't stand the thought of a God that allows such suffering while the heart is so big and full of passion for Him. What does the faith offer? "You just gotta trust in Him..."

REALLY? Hmm. OK. Sorry, that's not working. We're losing our car because she had to quit her job due to the depression. We're on a slippery slope to lose the house next. What is life that you should live it dangling from a string, in hopes that one day, just maybe, one day it'll be kinda better...

This "trust" is only making our marriage more rocky. Only making the bills harder to pay. Only making the disparity between reality and faith further and further apart.

And if life never gets better? God's will. There. You can't argue that. Nobody knows God. Who are you to question?

Anyways, I guess that's it for now. I'm a very new at this and I guess I'm just wondering how, if any out there has had a similar experience, how they managed...

As a writer, I try to be very careful to know the meaning of the words I use. This involves not only articulation, but verification. As someone once pointed out about Western civilization, the phrase, “the Word was made flesh” has significant importance in our development, and so has the phrase, “the pen is mightier than the sword.” When in doubt, I consult the dictionary, usually finding more to the word than I expected.

One word that’s getting a lot of usage lately is “seminal.” Just what are they talking about? In the contexts of commentaries and discussions, it means, “providing a basis for further development.” It also means “creative,” and, get this, “of or relating to semen.” On the same page are found “seminary” (school for the training of priests, rabbis, ministers), “seminar,” again, same Latin root word, semen, a seminar being a “seed plot.”

According to the searchable bibles at Biblegateway.com, the word “seed” appears 254 times in the King James Version. So, while we are considering the Bronze Age texts, we might also think about the fertility religions which Abrahamic religions borrowed from. We should.

Many years ago, I read a book by John Allegro, a scholar of comparative religious texts, pre-Bronze Age included - Ancient Greek, Latin, Egyptian, Sanskrit, etc. Professor Allegro wrote in “The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross,” of translating texts in search of their root words, to ascertain if they were speaking of common beliefs. He mentions in this book that the initial root word to describe the deity, “God,” means: giant penis. (Also the subject of a fictitious archaeological find in James Michener’s novel, “The Source.”)

The monotheistic god is a father, not the mother goddess of fertility. The penis has returned. And, naturally, this god favors and rewards males and male offspring, telling them that their “seed” will prosper, shall be as the sands of the desert, that many children will be their blessings. “Increase and multiply, fill the earth,” is an oft-repeated command. Plant the semen/seeds, and voila! - bumper crops all around.

It’s very important to keep in mind another matter in reading these texts; they also believed that the male carried the entire baby in his sperm (a “homunculus” or “miniature man”), that the woman was merely the fertile ground (and cursed is the woman who isn’t), just as seeds produced plants. This explains why it is a major immorality to ”waste” that semen.

This explains a LOT. For instance, why only males are listed in their genealogies, and why, when pagan tribes were annihilated by the Israelites, virgins were kidnapped for the implantation of the Chosen male People’s seed. It also explains why a virgin can be impregnated by a god, as is stated in Genesis, Ch. 6, where “the sons of God went into the daughters of humans, who bore children to them.”

Enter reality. Here’s a MAJOR problem for bible believers: it doesn’t work that way. The chromosomes come half from the father and half from the mother for ALL progeny, including Jesus, those OTHER “sons of God,” and the pagan virgins kidnapped to become fertile ground to create more “pure” chosen people. So you always had fifty percent pagan genes that their god was not aware existed!

There we have it: Bronze Age Fertility religion smashes up against the reality of life - again. Yet, in the 21st century, they’re still preaching masturbation is immoral, homosexuality is “unnatural,” because it “wastes” seed and produces no progeny, and abortion is murder. This explains also why many believers STILL regard women as property, and would prohibit them from having control of their bodies in which a male has implanted his seed, even in cases of rape or incest.

This absolutely obsessive tradition of HOLY seed has to cease; this madness of having more and more children in a fully populated world, is bible-based. Seed-obsession is causing suffering, starving, stonings, botched abortions, deaths and many other human rights violations everywhere monotheist religions have, or strive to have, domination.

It is imperative to confront that father-figure-big-penis-god, to stop worshipping it, that passionate erection that commands louder than reason, sanity, conscience, and justice, too often and in too many lives. If that god is a “spirit,” just why is it male? Or has that been cleared up by now?

In the realm of emotions, sometimes a song is not “just a song,” a game is not “just a game,” nor words “only words,” and beliefs “only beliefs” (although THEY actually are). But sperm is only sperm.

Evolution is everywhere, including the adaptability of religion, which often ignores the obvious in endeavoring to conform to civilizing influences. But, the “words of the lord,” are forever, so they are in the root systems, even now. Like evolutionary evidence, once you become aware of it, the more examples you find of it.

Don’t take my word for it. (That’s how you got trapped into your former beliefs- trusting and believing someone else’s claims.) Read John Allegro’s beginning chapter of “The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross.” Also check out his credentials.

[A final message to believers of every religion: With your FAITH, you CAN’T be wrong.]

I was raised by Mennonitemissionaries in a typical Mennonite home. When I was very young, I felt called to "Sanctification." This is an Anabaptist term denoting piety and obedience. Of course, it does not exist.

I was only about 11 or 12 but I was so into this madness that I stopped playing with friends and became unstable in my quest for holiness. Prior to this, I was not withdrawal or unhappy and this was not an emotional cry for help.

I simply heard sermons on it and wanted to please God. As part of this quest, over about a years' time, I began to stop eating. I thought of it as a fast, a way to control my sinful nature. The professionals I eventually saw called it Anorexia. But it was not about fat, weight, food, but directly linked to my desire to please God. Far sicker than anorexia.

Once it became obvious that I could die, my parents and I decided to pray. No treatment. I only survived because some man we knew physically took me to a stateside hospital. But it was way too late.

I was now treatment-resistant and felt that man's medicine was shortcutting god. I rejected all forms of help and I ended up on disability, still believing 'god had a plan for my life.' It was laughable and those I tried to witness to just laughed. One young man said, "If your life is a testimony to a god, your god sucks!" I should have listened.

That truly is enough horrors for one life. "God will not give you more than you can bear," is disproved by anyone who goes through that alone. But it did not stop there.

When I was 17, an older, converted Jewish man began to show an interest in me. Like others who "Just trust God," I had very little insight into what was going on. He convinced me that it was god's will that we marry, fabricating "signs" to convince us. He was a prominent member of the church, very wealthy, and had his own TV spot. I thought my suffering was over. I was 18 and he was in his mid-thirties when we wed.

If I suffered before, it was nothing compared to the hell I was about to enter. I cannot even begin to utter what I endured from day 1, and how long I had to stay in it. Anyone who has been abused by a priest or a minister will understand the layers, the religious ordering and humiliation, the manipulation, the silencing...........

I was made to keep silent and have never mentioned what I endured. I have tried, but it only made things worse. Even in therapy I cannot and will not talk about what I suffered because I can't.

I am now almost 50 and have never recovered. I have, like other survivors, been in treatment for PTSD and other disorders related to these religious horrors. I have met other survivors who have not made it and some who hang on.

My family has changed, for the better, and some even work for atheist's rights. Even the "believers" are less likely to "just trust god," and no one judges me.

Regardless, I still cannot purge it from my mind, though I try. I still catch myself telling God how much I hate him or wanting to thank him for a good day. I can't even imagine a life free from the pointless ruminations that go on in my head related to religion... it's a lifelong prison, one that society still lauds and fosters.

It's been a tremendous waste of a life, like one who flies an airplane into a building on god's orders.

My only consolation is that these new gods will one day be as remote and antiquated as the old ones. No one worships Zeus anymore, and one day not a soul will worship the gods of these new religions.

I grew up in a Christian home. However, I was 21 before I joined the Baptist Church and got "saved". Life was great and I was in love with my new savior. I jumped deep in the water of Christianity and it became my life for 13 years. I led Sunday School classes, became a deacon, led Men's retreat weekends, went witnessing during outreach and was an assistant part time pastor for a new Church Plant. I even felt called to the ministry full time and was planning on attending seminary to eventually start new churches in Canada. I was the Christian everyone looked up to. I was the guy who would have taken the bullet to the head, if asked to deny Christ or die.

When I started having doubts:

I guess it got started after the demise of a church plant that I was involved in. I had a man that told me it was God’s will that he start this church. Also, God gave him a vision that this church was going to grow into an equipping center that would start churches world wide. Well, this person had zero people skills, so the church never got off the ground. At first, I just assumed that the church planter had just simply missed his calling.

At the same time, I had just finished up a building project for the host church that was sponsoring the church plant. By trade I work construction, so I was excited to use my God given skills to help with the construction of the new sanctuary. During the 18-month planning and construction time, there were heated debates on which architect to use, the selection of the contractor, how much we were spending on the audio visual equipment, etc-etc-etc. During some of these meetings, the attitude became less than Christian like. However, to resolve our differences we decided to pray and seek God’s direction. At the next meeting we would come together, discuss the options, make some compromises and finally come to a decision. One major decision was the decision of the Architect. The team had basically decided on one man, because he had designed and built a large mega-church in our area. However, I discovered that a few years after he built the church in our area, he spent some time in prison for his actions in the Jim BakkerChristian theme park scandal. The team was pushing that we needed to extend Christian forgiveness and that God was telling them he was the man for our building. During the decision time, I voted for another Architect, but the majority won and we went ahead with this individual.

The plans came in and he did a pretty good job. I decided that my determination of God’s will was wrong. The plans went out for bid for the construction part of our campaign. The same individual was on the bidders list. In all my experience of construction, we never advocate for the architect to be part of the construction team. One major role of the architect is to keep the contractor in check. With this scenario, I was worried we would lose some accountability. However, the bids came in and the architect was the low bidder.

I asked myself, why did we get into this mess when we were all praying for God to show us his direction? Where was the Holy Spirit??I decided to do some digging on this individual and I discovered this person did not even have an architectural or contractors license in our state. When I presented this information to the team and informed them we had to throw out his bid, some were very upset. I also let them know he had another architect that was licensed, stamp our set of plans and that was illegal. We were then faced with having paid him a lot of money and maybe not being able to even use the plans for construction.

In the end we were able to use the plans and the 2nd lowest contractor was selected for construction, after more prayer of course.

However, the church did have to hire another architect to oversee construction and they spent a lot of extra money when everything was said and done. At that moment came the first crack in my salvation. I asked myself, why did we get into this mess when we were all praying for God to show us his direction? Where was the Holy Spirit??

The next dent in my Christian armor was the fact my two boys were having nightmares. My oldest son who was five at the time, asked that we pray that God would give them good dreams. I prayed a sincere prayer asking God to protect them in the night. When I walked out of the room I had no doubt that my Lord was watching over them as we slept. However, at 2:00 in the morning he comes crying that the bad guys were trying to get them. As I tucked him back in the bed he asked me, “Why did God not give me good dreams?” I did not have a good answer to give him. For several months I started processing why did God not give him good dreams? After all, he is just a child.

These issues drove me back to some unanswered prayers, or “No” answers from God from years past. Flashing back came several memories.

The first was after a close family member was raped. I prayed for the man to be caught. Not, so I could kill him or have the opportunity to severely hurt him. I wanted him off the streets so this would not happen to another woman, another family. In the end he was never caught or prosecuted.

Then I remembered when I was in a tough financial situation. I was losing my house to foreclosure. Prior to this happening, I was praying and I thought God told me that my wife needed to quit her job and stay home with our first son. I knew that God would provide and we were being obedient. We were faithful in our tithes and services to the church. However, the unexpected check never arrived and we lost the home.

The next, "No" was when I thought God was asking me to become a church planter in Canada. For this to happen, I needed to go back to school to finish my undergraduate degree. I needed my undergraduate so I could attend Seminary. I knew that God was able to provide for this huge expense, so I decided to take out student loans and wait for the miracle of someone paying them off. Before I deconverted, I never made it to seminary because I was writing a student loan check each month.

Around the same time I started having doubts our house was broken into and pretty much everything of value was taken. However, the only thing I prayed to be returned was my computer. I asked all of my church friends and family to pray for the return of the computer. I was not too upset over the the computer. However there were years of digital pictures stored on the hard drive. I knew that we had lost first steps, birthdays, Christmas mornings, etc... However, to date nothing was ever recovered.

All of these doubts and memories began to really shake my confidence in my Creator, my Savior, my first love, My personal God -- the one who holds all things together. I began to pray for God to restore the doubts of my salvation. I begged for God to renew within me a steadfast spirit. I longed to come back to the God of whom I knew as the cornerstone of my life. However, it seemed like there was no answer on the other line. I waited and waited some more. I prayed and prayed some more. Still, nothing but silence. It was only after months of silence did I see the crack of lost faith begin to widen. Deep within me is the desire to search for truth. I decided to use my logic to examine the history of Christianity and the Bible. It was hard to truly look at the evidence without any sense of bias -- simply look for truth.

Like many of you, this search for truth led me from Christianity, to Deism, to simply "Ex-Christian". The process was two years of living Hell, no pun intended. However, now I am grateful to be on the other side!

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